


The Rose

by LittleRedRoseontheValley (TheLifeAndLiesOfFerns)



Category: Blades of Light and Shadow (Visual Novel)
Genre: Character Death, Dark Magic, F/M, Imprisonment, Obsession, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:00:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24633487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLifeAndLiesOfFerns/pseuds/LittleRedRoseontheValley
Summary: Aerin is free, but at a price.
Relationships: Aerin Valleros/Main Character (Blades of Light and Shadow)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	The Rose

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is messed up. Like, really. I am a bit of an Edgelady when it comes to fanfiction, I have always defended that people can enjoy what they enjoy and forget everyone else. But this, this is messed up. God, I need a psychiatrist.

Love is a funny thing.

It is good, but it is bad. It heals and it hurts. It saves and it condemns. It is democratic, but a privilege.

Everyone pursues it, even, and perhaps especially, those who deny their desire to love and be loved. It seems like the very thing that keep societies together, a need to accept and be accepted in turn, to feel like you are dearly valued by someone. Be it a family member, a friend or a sexual partner.

All the races have their own way to express love. Marriage and the one true partner in a lifetime for the humans, the separation of sex and devotion for the elves, and the survivalist ritual of the orcs, they all just want to be loved by someone. Preferably forever.

My life taught me the importance of the social bonds. My family was slayed far away from their home and no-one knew them, nor they had any identifying characteristics, other than our race and the two young children that survived the attack. Kade and I.

I do not remember it very well. The first thing I remember is their burial, on a common grave. My hand gripped Kade’s, who seemed to be crying, but my eyes were dry. I think I cried too much already.

There was no way of knowing from where we came from, other than the general direction of Undermount. Since no elves passed through, there were no travelers or officials to talk to. I thank the gods every night for the kindness of the farmer that took us in, until his demise.

I depended on and was nurtured by my brother, and I knew it was the same for him. Our bond was what helped us to survive, and I protected and fought for that bond as much as I craved for another.

Perhaps it is due to my blood. Elves were known as people of loose sexual morals, what I came to learn it was due to their concepts of Kinvali e Divali, as well as the ethereal beauty of their never-fading youth, but the naturalist explanation was just as likely with my limited information.

I do not think it is, though. I would take it a step further. Perhaps it was due to my neediness and sense of abandonment. A strong presence by my side during the day and some bodily heat next to me on my bed at night seemed to silence the despair of my soul.

The fact of the matter was that I was hardly pure and inexperienced, my road had been longer and more tortuous than it perhaps should, and the wariness was apparent. I sook companionship, desperately so, and more often than not, I found it. Not with the stability I wanted, but I rarely gone by without someone to which I could use to that end since I entered puberty. Some of them, I even could see myself with them permanently, but my race or social standing often came in the way.

Then, there was _him_.

Him and I were alike in many aspects. He had a family, but one that ignored him on a good day, and abused him on a bad. He was as good as an orphan, forgotten and unloved, often starved and beaten, seduced by an evil and faceless force from infancy for a nefarious purpose.

I suppose I cannot excuse him completely, he eventually should know better, that he was sowing the kind of suffering that corrupted him in the first place, but perhaps there was wisdom in taking a spoonful of sugar before the bitter medicine.

He did not lie to me. I know he did not. He showed me what there was beneath the gray and barren permafrost of his corrupted face, and what I saw was enchantingly beautiful. He was handsome, if rather short and gaunt, with a sharp and excitingly witty mind, and extremely kind and empathetic.

My soul sang for him. I felt safe and seen by him, and for the two short nights we spent at Deadwood, my desires and needs were shaped in a hole that seemed that could only be filled by his presence. My heart longed to see him again, as soon as I possibly could.

Our sojourn at Undermount, so tantalizing when I first entered Deadwood, was still nice and enlightening, but my tongue was overwhelmed by the sweet honey that the tart mouthfeel of elfish society was that much more blatant. That was not my place, these were not my people, and I could only think that I would be happier in Whitetower.

I had my summer under his warmth that afternoon at the palace gardens and at the library with him, and then the night under his sheets, and I knew it was true love for me.

Then, the cold hit me and I was thrown on the harshest of winters. His face twisted in a grey frost, a clean cut was made and his brother’s life was taken, like it did not mean anything. The portal opened, he held onto the magic user and they vanished into the unknown.

I realize I was used, little more than a pawn, designed to gather the shards and protect a viable vessel for an evil force. He had used me, like he too had been used, and it really hurt me.

I had to stop him. No matter what he meant to me, no matter how it would hurt, I had to stop him with any means necessary. I could not let it move forward and let more lives to be destroyed.

So, I did just that. I captured him and killed his master.

Tonight, I go down the dungeon. To see him, to talk to him.

He was asleep, curled up at a thin cot of hay, likely trying to stave off the humid cold coming out from the stone walls and the wells of the castle. Without his disguise, his skin was gray and his aura was very dark. His constitution seemed thinner, more haunted.

It filled me with pity.

“Aerin! Wake up!” I whispered, breathily. I had bewitched the guard, but there was no need for alerting any reinforcements. “Aerin, wake up, please!”

His dark eyes shot open and he quickly rose to his feet. “Raine! What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you.” I responded, downcast. “We don’t have much time.”

“What for? To gloat? To marvel at your doing?” He sneered.

I sighed. “Aerin, I am not going to apologize for stopping you. It had to be done. I am sorry, however, that I lied to you when we were at the Shadow Court.”

“I should have known better.” He mumbled, sadly. “I should have known to be stronger, to not let my sad human needs to get the best out of me. It was naïve to believe what you have told me.”

“That is not what I lied to you about it.” My eyes fill with tears. “Yes, I had no intention of joining you in the Shadow Court, and I still have none. Yet, I was sincere when I told you I would take you as you are.”

Aerin raised a doubtful eyebrow, so I placed my hands at the lock of his cell and whispered an enchantment. It opened softly for me to walk inside, before closing ominously behind my back.

Every step I moved forward, he took one backwards, until his back was pressed against the wall. Cornered, I pick up his hands and try to soothe him by caressing his fingers with mine.

“Your magic has improved.” He managed to let out.

“That was what was keeping me. Research, training and planning.” I smiled softly at him. “I love you, Aerin. With all my heart. My greatest regret is that I am _twenty years_ too late to save you from corruption, from suffering.”

“It’s not your fault.” He finally responded. “The short time we had together was much more than I ever hoped to receive.”

Aerin kissed my tear-stained cheeks and wrapped me in his embrace. Without the stone, the smell on his skin was different. He smelled like blue moss and flowers that bloomed in the night, and that only made me cry harder.

“I am sorry, too.” I hear whispered on my ears. “I am sorry I cannot give you anything but a life of pain and suffering. I am sorry I was weak, greedy and stubborn. I am sorry I cannot be the man you love all the time.”

I break apart from his hug and face him. Wiping my tears with my left sleeve, I look him dead in the eyes and say, “I came here to free you.”

“What?” He did a double-take.

“I put you in here, I am getting you out.” I threw my satchel at him. “There is a map of the Shadow Realm in there, one that should take you through a route safe enough so you can open another portal, one to a land beyond the great desert. There is also some gold and supplies to help you on your voyage.”

“That… That is brilliant!” He smiled, genuinely happy. “I can’t believe… You are so ingenious!”

He picked me up by the waist and twirled me around, and I let myself giggle and bask on his excitedness.

Then, he laid me down and looked forlornly at me. “I can’t do magic anymore. My powers derived from the Dreadlord. With him gone, so are my powers. And you couldn’t corrupt yourself, so you can’t open a portal as well.”

“There is more than one way to enter the Shadow Realm, Aerin, and you know the price.”

“You don’t mean…”

I did not let him finish his sentence. The silver dagger reflected the moonlight as I raise it.

“No!” He screams and launches himself to stop me, but it was too late. I drove the cursed knife through my stomach.

As my cupric blue blood soaks my tunic, I lose strength on my legs. Luckily, Aerin grab me by my shoulders and supports me straight. My life force is being sucked dry to open a portal to the Shadow Realm.

Soon enough, it appears on the back of the cell and I smile. “I did it…”

“Raine! Gods!” He seemed frantic. To me, it seemed odd, as a sensation of peace was slowly taking ahold of me. “Why did you do this?!”

“I had to free you…” I verbalize with difficulty. “I couldn’t let you waste away in a dungeon… I needed to give you a chance of living…”

His eyes spill big tears. “Not like this. There was another way.”

“There would be no peace. A fugitive’s life is not worth living.” I smiled at him. He was so handsome. I felt glad to die looking at him. “If I die, if you move far away, no-one will ever touch you.”

“I want you to come with me. Please, Raine, there must be a way to heal you. Don’t die, _please_.”

“The blade is cursed. There is no coming back.” I whisper. “Hurry… The portal will only be open while I’m still alive… I used too much magic, it won’t remain open for long.”

Aerin looked momentarily conflicted, but picked up the satchel and headed to the portal.

“I’m sorry, Raine. I am _so_ sorry.”

He jumps into the vortex and disappears. I feel it inside my soul he had managed to find his way to the Shadow Realm.

I am glad. I was able to help someone I love. Is it not the most we can expect of life?

Before I came down to the dungeons, I visited Deadwood for some important ingredients. Inside the bag, I left the dry moonflowers and the instructions to brew the purifying potion. I hope he takes it.

I feel my grip on consciousness slipping and the spells I casted tonight are fading away. It was the end for me.

_In the winter, far beneath the bitter snows, lies the seed that, with the sun’s love, becomes the rose._


End file.
